The 9th Book
by chaicream
Summary: Erik Lensherr, a bestselling author, faces a writer's block with recent criticisms of his latest novel. One day, he finds himself in a mysterious coffeehouse run by who seems to be the answer to his problem.


**A/N: Hello everyone! First ever fic (nervous!). Couldn't help but write some Cherik so I did. Hope you guys enjoy it let me know if I should continue? And just a quick fyi, this story is 99.9% going to NOT be a happy, fluffy fic!**

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><p>Erik was used to ignoring phone calls.<p>

He shouldn't be, but he was.

He knew Emma, his editor, aka the reason for his new-found habit of denying his phone's existence, was going to make his life a living hell for this, but he couldn't care less. Not now anyway.

He was busy staring out the window at all the snow that had accumulated over the course of the evening. And, well, he had a writer's block, and he wasn't about to tell Emma that. She presented herself as a calm, collected professional, but he knew better. They've been friends since...since forever, and Emma apparently didn't feel the need to treat him with professionalism. Or any kind of respect, really.

So he continued to stare. Mentally blaming Emma for making him add more "real romance" to his next project. Damn her and the entire publishing industry.

He had made quite a name for himself in the genre of thrillers, mystery and general bashing of human nature with his recent string of bestselling novels. People spoke highly of his books and criticisms rarely came his way.

Except for the last book anyway. His last book was still a bestseller. But this time, both his readers and critics reviewed that he seemed to lack understanding and knowledge of true love between two people.

The book wasn't even a romance novel for fuck's sake. Why was everyone on his ass about it?

So naturally, Emma made sure that he spent extra time with that specific aspect for his new book, but frankly, he was finding it difficult. Why? Because he'd never been in love. Flings? Many times. Many, many one night stands back in the days. But love? Mm. Perhaps he thought he was above it all, perhaps he hasn't "met the right person" as Emma put it. Whatever it was, the lack of experience was now biting him in the ass in the form of a writer's block. A huge one at that too.

He was going to need to get out of the house.

Get some fresh air.

So he did. To where? Nowhere in particular.

More than an hour of random driving later, he found himself approaching a small...coffeehouse? Yes, it seemed so. A small coffeehouse located in the middle of seemingly nowhere. He didn't know a neighborhood like this existed around where he lived. It was so quiet (perhaps the snow was keeping everyone inside). Most buildings on the way were closed, most likely due to the snow.

But this coffeehouse was open. Wait, perhaps it was a bakery?

Thinking that he deserves some coffee after that drive through the snow, Erik parked right up to the shop and entered. He sighed at the sudden warmth and the smell of coffee and cake that enveloped him.

"Hello, welcome," a soft voiced greeted him. Erik turned to look at a man standing to his right, holding a cardboard box. "What can I get you?" the man asked with an equally soft smile as he headed for the counter.

"Just...coffee," Erik mumbled, wandering if he should double or triple the shot. He was already addicted to caffeine so maybe he should go easy on it? His eyes roamed while pondering and landed at the small range of cupcakes, muffins and cake slices on display. Perhaps some sugar might help?

Maybe not.

"Just coffee, huh? That'll be 1.70."

Erik handed the man 2 pounds and dropped the change into the tip jar.

"Alright, coming right up," the man flashed him a smile before turning towards the coffee machine. Erik looked around the shop and took a seat by the two book shelves located to one side of the shop. The shelves were filled with books, some seemingly new, some clearly years old and worn out.

Before he could stop himself, he was checking to see if any of his books were a part of the collection.

And of course, there it was. All of them, actually, neatly arranged by date of publication. He knew he shouldn't be too impressed (all his books sold millions of copies), but it was nonetheless flattering to see it in person. He brushed his fingers against the spines of his novels, wandering who the collection belonged to.

"You a fan of Erik Lensherr, too?"

Erik jumped at the sudden voice and turned to face the same barista standing with a tray.

"I apologize. Didn't mean to scare you," he continued with an apologetic smile, and Erik couldn't help but notice how insanely blue the man's eyes were. "Just coffee for you and a red velvet cupcake."

"I didn't-"

"It's on the house."

Erik stared at the red and white cupcake in front of him. All completely decorated with a small red heart embedded in the mound of cream cheese frosting. What made the man decided to give him something so...cute?

"I know what you're thinking, but trust me, you'll like it," the barista flashed a grin, crinkling his noise for a fleeting moment.

"But why?" Erik blurted out before he could stop himself.

"...You looked like you needed something sweet in your life," the man answered after a moment of silence. Erik couldn't tell if the man was making fun of him, or if he was a bit of a nutjob or just being nice for the hell of it.

"...Thank you," Erik answered anyway, because really, what else was he going to say to that?

He took a bite of the cupcake, unsure of what to expect. He had never had a red velvet anything. It was a sudden explosion of sweetness in his mouth, but it was...good. Really good. He looked up towards the counter and saw the barista flash him a "I-told-you-so" grin before wiping the counter.

"What brings you out here in this weather?" the barista asked, still wiping.

"Needed some fresh air," Erik replied before taking a sip of his coffee. It was brewed to perfection. What was this place?

"Ah, I see. You from the area?"

"No, I don't think so."

"You don't think so?" the man asked with raised eyebrows, his hands still.

"I'm not quite sure where I am. I just took my car out and started driving."

"Fair enough. I'm Charles, by the way."

"Erik," Erik replied and cringed internally. He did not want to be identified as Erik Lensherr. He was really not into the whole being recognized-slash-idolized thing, and Emma had always pointed out that he was allergic to fame.

"Huh, I like that name. It's the same as my favorite author, Erik Lensherr."

Erik almost choked on his coffee.

"Sorry. Not trying to be a creep. I'm just a bit of a...what's the word...a bookworm?"

"I figured. You have all of his books here."

"And I see that you're a fan too."

Erik frowned in confusion.

"You wouldn't have known that was all his books unless you were a fan," Charles explained with yet another grin.

_Clever._

"What did you think about his latest one?" Erik ventured carefully. He knew he was probably digging his own grave with this one but, he had to know if everyone thought he was inadequate when it came to writing anything remotely romantic. "I thought the relationship between Dan and Lauren was a bit...lacking."

"Given the circumstances, I think any more focus on their romance would've ruined the flow of the story. But, I wish he had better portrayed the...desperation between the two."

"Desperation?"

"Yeah. The kind of desperation that comes between two people who are so helplessly in love. It's not always rainbows and butterflies with love now, is it? There's a much...darker, painful side that comes with true love..."

Erik noticed the way Charles swallowed hard with the last word.

"But, that's just my opinion," Charles continued with what was clearly a forced smile.

"I see.." Erik mumbled as he focused on the half eaten cupcake in front of him. Perhaps this barista was right. All this time, he thought he needed more roses and kisses in his novels, but that wasn't it.

He needed to go home. Now.

Caffeine beyond lethal dosage and hours of typing and deleting later, Erik found himself on the couch. And it was dark out. When and how did he fall asleep and what time was it? Erik groaned as he tried to push himself up. God, his muscles hated him.

He wasn't sure if he could consider yesterday's achievement a success or a failure. He did type a lot of words, but ended up getting rid of most of them because he wasn't happy with it, but at the same time, he had a general direction, so that was still a win, right?

Erik headed (crawled) towards the kitchen. He needed more caffeine. He couldn't help but fear that the addiction might kill him one day.

Erik cursed loudly and shamelessly as he stared at the empty can of coffee. How! Why! What had he done so wrong to deserve this? He couldn't function without coffee and he very well could not be bothered to drive outside, buy it, drive all the way back and make some. Like hell that was going to happen.

So he did what needed to be done.

And somehow, he found himself driving all the way back to the coffeeshop from yesterday. It was already quite late, so he wasn't sure if it would even be open.

The snow had piled overnight and the weather had gotten worse, so there were still no people out and about when he parked by the shop. To his relief, the lights were still on.

Charles was mopping the floor when Erik entered.

"Oh, you're back," Charles greeted with a warm smile that had Erik wondering just how anyone could look that...content in this weather. "You look like you need something strong," he continued as he made his way to the counter.

"Were you about to close?" Erik asked as he looked around the place. There was still the smell of coffee lingering in the air, but all the pastries had been obviously removed.

"Yes, but don't worry. Why don't you take a seat. What would you like?"

"Just coffee. Strong."

"At this time of the night? You must be facing a strict deadline."

"You could say that," Erik mumbled. He hadn't realized it until now, but he was starving now. He couldn't remember having anything after the cupcake, and he knew that he was going to pay dearly for downing strong coffee on an empty stomach.

Erik spent the next few minutes browsing through books while listening to the soft clanking sounds coming from where Charles was now standing. The now prominent smell of coffee was enticing. He looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw Charles approaching him with a tray.

"Here. I hope you don't mind a simple ham and cheese sandwich. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you looked hungry. It's on the house."

Erik could almost see a ray of light shining from behind the other man. He watched as Charles placed a plate of sandwich and a cup of coffee onto the small round table.

"Please, let me pay for the sandwich."

"It's not on the menu."

"Still-"

"Just eat," Charles stopped Erik with a playful smile. "There's also a cookie left from today if you'd like."

"Are you going to let me pay for that?"

Charles laughed, and the sound sent a strange sensation right through Erik.

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><p><strong>Continue?<strong>


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